


The Soldier, The King, and The Poet

by bitter_serialkiller



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Badass Reader, Fluff and Humor, I just want Techno to be happy, Mild Language, POV First Person, Platonic Relationships, Soft Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), georgenotfound is angry, maybe a different one, no romance in this one homies, sorry - Freeform, this is not based on the SMP so relax
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_serialkiller/pseuds/bitter_serialkiller
Summary: Time to overthrown an entire kingdom with The Blade and Green Man.When a bleeding mess shows up in front of your cabin, you take him in and find out that the both of you are connected by similar pasts. A corrupt kingdom and a hatred of governments. In order to save each other, you and him end up journeying with another traitor to fix what went wrong when the King of Notfoundom was born.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & You, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) & You
Kudos: 4





	The Soldier, The King, and The Poet

Scratching, scratching, scratching my life down. The quill rested comfortably in my palm as I dragged it against the small, handmade book. The emotion I’ve spilled in the other books below is immeasurable. They were stories of my life, stories of fantasy; there was one about hunting in the woods and one with the king and the traitor. Of the two years I’ve spent holed away in my winter cabin, I found myself enjoying the comforts of the trees and the snow. They welcomed me, and they bothered me.

I slammed my book on the table. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and felt exhaustion sweep over me. Standing, I stretched out my limbs and hobbled to the door to get more wood. I did chop it for a reason. I wrapped my worn cloak around myself and shuffled outside and down the small steps. I reluctantly unwrapped my cloak enough to grab a few pieces of wood. I was ready to rush back into the warmth of my cabin, but I saw something dark in the snow a few paces away. Was that blood? My gaze swept across the tree line. An animal maybe? I finally locked onto a much darker lump in the snow. There was red soaked snow around it.

Haphazardly, I tossed the wood into the front door and approached the figure. I was almost confident it was an animal until I noticed arms and legs and a person. I quickened my pace and shook his shoulders. When he didn’t flinch, I knew it was bad. I peered up at the snowy trees. There was nothing.  
With a grunt, I pulled one arm up around my shoulder and hauled his body up onto my back as best as I could. I could feel his short breaths on my neck; he was alive. Getting him inside was more than a nightmare, I stumbled on the steps, and I almost rolled my ankle on the wood I threw in earlier. Eventually, I got him on the bed and stripped his huge cloak off and unbuttoned his shirt to assess the extent of the damages.

“Shit,” I mumbled out. He was still bleeding and the stab wound looked infected. I ran over to the stairs, vaulted over the railing, and landed on the basement floor. I cursed myself for being so unorganized and rummaged through the chest under the stairs. Invisibility, strength, fire resistance, here we go. With two bottles in hand, I ran back up the stairs and nearly tripped on the wood spread out across the floor. Cursing again, I kicked the wood toward the fireplace and focused back on the task of making sure the stranger didn’t die in my bed. I removed the boar skull mask from his face and gently applied some of the potion to the cuts on his face and poured most of it onto his chest wounds.

I left the empty bottle and the full bottle on the table, some spilled onto my book. Opening the chest next to the bed, I found some old shirts and decided they were the best bandage I had on hand. I knew there were some bandages downstairs somewhere, but I didn’t have time to spend searching for them. I ripped them up, and wrapped what I could around his injuries, but a few of the small cuts would have to be out in the open. I sighed, breathing hard and finally noticing the chill that surrounded me. I turned my attention away from the man and toward the dying fire to rekindle the flame. I picked up the scattered pieces of wood and tossed them into the fireplace, prodding them with my axe to add oxygen to fire that licked the new pieces.

Once I was satisfied, I walked over to the man, removed his boots, and covered him in blankets. I was surprised he didn’t die of hypothermia.

I couldn’t risk sleeping now, with a stranger in my house. I removed my cloak and boots and settled back into my chair. The flames held my attention for a while. I couldn’t reason in my mind why I decided to save him. I didn’t want a dead body as lawn decor, and animals would swarm too. I knew that these weren’t the real reasons, but feeling empathy for him felt shameful. My gaze shifted to the mess I made trying to help him. Unbeknownst to me, my empathy became sympathy in that moment. And then guilt.

I turned away and picked up my book; I wanted to write again. I couldn’t trust this man yet, but I was desperate for company. I let my mind wander until sunrise, scratching down thoughts every so often and poking at the fire to stay warm. I was beyond exhausted, but I’d sleep when I could trust him. The light peeking through the window woke me up and sobered my mind enough to form more coherent thoughts.

I got up, shaking off my fears, and I grabbed the stranger’s cloak. It was much thicker and warmer than my own. And besides, I saved his life, I deserve a little compensation. That compensation just happened to be a warm cloak to hunt it––its red color reminded me of my asshole ex-boss. I flung it around my shoulders on instinct, grabbed my crossbow, and left without it being so much as an afterthought. The forest awaited me outside, the animals waking from their slumber. The snow crunched beneath my feet, and I loaded the crossbow. Patience was something I held in high virtue, and the exhaustion made it easier to uphold. The cold got my adrenaline up. I held still as soon as my eyes caught a small movement in a nearby bush. I moved my crossbow up, aiming at the rabbit. I let out a sigh, my breath warming my hands, and I pulled the trigger. It was too late for the poor thing, the arrow striking through its body. I picked it up and pulled the arrow out of its body.

After two more unlucky bunnies, I found myself distracted and wandering. The sun was at high noon now, but the cold continued to linger; it always did. I wasn’t focusing anymore. I haven’t pulled all-nighters like this since––

“Found anything?” A voice echoed through the trees. It caught my attention in a second, but it wasn’t soon enough because a horse followed right behind it. I clutched the red cloak in my hand, realization flooding over me, turned on my heel, and took off. The crunch of the snow and dead brush sounded through the trees and I heard another shout behind me. The horse made more noise than I did, but it was fast, gaining on me in the second I started running.

“He’s here! George!” The man yelled. My adrenaline spiked. My feet pounded the ground below me and I swerved through the trees in an attempt to get them off my scent.

The horse was faster, but I knew the forest much better. I carefully led them away from my cabin, but I was running low on stamina and my prey was heavy. The Drop! Okay, I just had to get to the cliffside. It was steep enough that a horse wouldn’t follow.

The equestrian shouted again, “He’s getting away! George get your horse under control!”

“Ugh! Fuck, fuck, it’s right there,” I muttered under my breath, the words warming my lips. I picked up what little speed I could and saw the dip and the deadly fall before me. I could do that.

Right?

There was no going back now. It was either a harsh tumble down the mountainside or death from the rider back there. I decided that a good roll in the snow would do wonders for my complexion and dove off the side. I felt my body hit the ground, but everything went numb fast. I missed all the trees skidding down the snow, but I wasn’t so lucky at the bottom. My upper back slammed hard into a huge spruce trunk, snow falling down onto my crumpled body.

More snow tumbled down the slope, most likely from the man stopping his horse and the peak. I wasted no time getting to my feet and bearing the hike back home. I was going to be so fucking sore in the morning.

The trees mocked me as I passed and the cold froze a good chunk of my hair together. I scanned my surroundings again, just to be sure the equestrians didn’t follow me down. But there were no horses, no intimidating enemies, and, best of all, no rivers. If I had to wade through one more, I would stay and drown; they left me numb and freezing all over. 

Soon enough, I caught the smell of smoke and knew I was close. The smoke was hard to see over the clouded sky, but living in this winter wonderland for so long made me better at recognizing it. With the little strength left in me, I jogged up to the house, rabbits intact and breath caught. I swung it open, trudged inside, and closed it behind me. Before I could get another step inside, a blade thudded into the wood next to my head.

“Shit.”

I locked eyes with those of the stranger. I’m glad I decided not to sleep with him recovering in my home because he woke up and chose violence. Neither one of us moved until he spoke up.

“Who are you?”

“The owner of the house,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “And the person who thought it would be a good idea to save you life.”

He pulled the sword from the wood and backed off. He looked to be in the process of buttoning his shirt back up; he must’ve just woken up. Behind the stained fabric, I could see the remnants of the makeshift bandage peeling and falling off.

“So, who are you?” He moved to finish buttoning his shirt and eyed the cloak around my shoulders. He pointed to it and I unclasped it, handing it back to him, “I killed some rabbits. We can eat when I’ve skinned them.”

“I’m a guy who hates governments and is willing to do the dirty work,” He spoke after a minute. He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask him to. He just moved to sit down on the bed, and fiddled with the books I had on the table. When I didn’t stop him, he opened one up and sometimes glanced up to see what I was doing. 

“You’re not even gonna tell me your name?”

“Unimportant,” He avoided my question again, and this time I left it alone.

It didn’t bother me that he refused to answer, but it still piqued my curiosity. The few pieces of information that he did share intrigued me. Where was he running from? And who? I returned to my work and let him sit in silence; he didn’t want to tell me too much.

I stared down at the rabbits. I didn’t know how to use the skins, but once they were completely skinned, I set them over the fire to cook. The stranger continued to watch me as I did this; he was wary of my actions and I understood his survival instinct.

“You’re probably going to be bedridden for a while so get comfortable. If you're bored, there are more books downstairs. Read what you want.”

He acknowledged me and I watched the meat roast over the flames, turning it every so often to make sure it didn’t burn. After a few weeks of eating my dried meat reserves, I couldn’t risk burning the fresh meat. Having company was the biggest reason I set out to hunt, but fresh meat was better anyway.

“Your wounds are bad,” I commented, “I almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”

He smiled to himself, “Yeah, well, it’s a side effect of treason.”

I only snorted and didn’t push the topic any further. When the meat was done, I took it off the flames and handed the plate to him. He took it from me, but he didn’t start eating yet.

“If I wanted you dead, I would’ve left you outside to bleed out.”

He considered my point, but still waited for me to eat first. He seemed grateful, so it didn’t bother me that he didn’t offer that gratitude to me. I realized how thin he was; he had been on the run for a long time and game was scarce in this neverending winter wonderland.

“You can stay in my bed again tonight until I can set you up somewhere downstairs tomorrow.” He didn’t say anything so I continued, “Let me change those before you go to sleep.”

“And I just put it back on too,” He complained and began the tedious process of unbuttoning it again. He laid down and let me pour more of the health potion on his wounds. I found the proper bandages this time and wrapped the wounds with clean and safer material.

“Thanks, and I might tell you the story if you don’t die trying to keep me alive.” And that was all I heard from him that night. He curled up into the blankets and was out like a light.

I silently wished that I could fall asleep that fast, then made my way down into the basement. Walking over to the far wall, I let my hand drift over my old armor, the dust collecting on my fingertips. I thought that I’d never touch it again, but here I was, debating whether or not I wanted to fight to save this complete stranger’s life. I decided he probably wasn’t worth it. Just a bandit on the run. I knew of many. All the ones I was forced to hunt down and kill. I didn’t end up killing any of them, though––unless they deserved it.

I moved over to the right wall and dragged my hand across an old painting. Once I reached the edge, I pulled it away from the wall to uncover a secret room. I stepped inside and pulled the painting closed behind me. The short hallway expanded into a square room lined with bookshelves and an enchantment table sat in the center. I moved behind the leftmost bookshelves until I hit the back of the room. A small chest was hidden in the corner. I opened it and pulled out an old notebook. I tied in more and more blank pages and had to replace the cover several times because of its growing size. Inside these pages lie my life story. From the day I was born, to my childhood intricacies, my schooling, friends, and favorite things.

I wrote about my family and the time I spent training with the village blacksmith. She taught me how to make tools and weapons. Her technique was faultless when it came to fighting and crafting. She remains my first and best teacher. I missed her whenever I read the worn and wrinkled pages about her.

I wrote about my acceptance into the royal guard and how I excelled in mercenary work. I was the first mercenary to be hired by the kingdom’s royal family, let alone the many noble families around the capital. Pussies.

This notebook was far more detailed than those in my library. It was my prized possession; the only thing that helped me retain my sanity. So I sat in that corner and wrote about everything up to today, falling asleep before I could finish.

When I woke up, I found myself huddled against the cold wood of the chest, my notebook curled in my arms. I quickly finished off my notes and placed it back into the chest. My body thanked me for finally sleeping and I left the little room behind the painting.

The house was empty again. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that the stranger wasn’t here and my crossbow was missing. I set a pot of water over a new fire and slumped into my chair. If he really did leave for good, then I guess I could respect the fact that he only took the crossbow to defend himself and NOT my entire food supply. But another part of me knew he wasn’t gone for good. Sure, maybe he was doing something I didn’t want to get involved in, but he needed a place to stay and I wasn’t kicking him out.

I poured myself some coffee. I stared down into the mug until I got an idea, ripped a piece of paper from the notebook sitting on the table, and scratched out a note. It basically read that I needed more supplies for the upcoming storm and I was going to make a trip to the village north of the cabin.

I left an empty mug on top of the paper, finished off my coffee, and got ready to leave. The stranger had taken his cloak, so I was stuck with my thin piece of fabric. I pulled my boots on, flipped the hood over my eyes, and covered my face with a scarf to reduce windburn. I hooked my axe onto my belt in case anyone thought I was an easy target and headed out. I didn’t have a lot of money, but the villagers traded some of my stories and the dried meat I hunted myself. It was even a good chance to trade the rabbit skins from earlier.

It was not a fun walk, I always made it safe and sound, so I wasn’t worried. I crossed the bridge over the river like always and headed farther northeast to the village. The trees were calm in the morning; there were no predators I needed to defend myself from. I entertained myself with old folk songs my mother used to sing to me. I missed her, but I couldn’t go back when I was wanted in that corrupt kingdom.

Some of the birds would sing with me. Their chips were rarely on tune, though. Eventually, I spotted the end of the trees and broke out into the clearing with the village. I heard it used to be abandoned a long time ago, but settlers found it and brought it back to life. That story would explain the broken portal nearby I supposed. The village elders would always tell stories about it, the nether. I’d been there a long time ago, but I had forgotten most of the place. I only remembered that it was hot and smelled awful.

I trudged onto the streets and saw a lot of vendors I usually traded with. Many of them sold clothing, food, and cheap trinkets. I stopped by the farmer first; He didn’t like to kill his animals, so he always traded me eggs for whatever dried meat I had brought that day. He was grateful for anything which made me always go to him first. He even padded the bag with feathers and sheep wool to keep the eggs from breaking on bumpy trips. I thanked him and continued my stroll around the other stalls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write a chapter in about a week, so I hope I can stick to a schedule. This is unlikely lmao. Anyway, I have most of this planned out, so I hope people actually like this because I know that many people come to this website for that smut lol
> 
> I'm going to try and add most of the SMP characters even if they don't have huge roles in this story, for now the tags only have the key characters and I'm going to add to it later


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